“If I were allowed to hazard a brief observation,” began Rodin, humbly.

“Speak.”

“A few years ago we obtained certain information through the confessional, that the funds were in existence, and that they had risen to an enormous amount.”

“Doubtless; and it was that which called the attention of the Reverend Father-General so strongly to this affair.”

“We know, then, what probably the descendants of the family do not—­the immense value of this inheritance?”

“Yes,” answered Father d’Aigrigny, “the person who certified this fact in confession is worthy of all belief.  Only lately, the same declaration was renewed; but all the efforts of the confessor could not obtain the name of the trustee, or anything beyond the assertion, that the money could not be in more honest hands.”

“It seems to me, then,” resumed Rodin, “that we are certain of what is most important.”

“And who knows if the holder of this enormous sum will appear to-morrow, in spite of the honesty ascribed to him?  The nearer the moment the more my anxiety increases.  Ah!” continued Father d’Aigrigny, after a moment’s silence, “the interests concerned are so immense that the consequences of success are quite incalculable.  However, all that it was possible to do, has been at least tried.”

To these words, which Father d’Aigrigny addressed to Rodin, as if asking for his assent, the socius returned no answer.

The abbe looked at him with surprise, and said:  “Are you not of my opinion—­could more have been attempted?  Have we not gone to the extreme limit of the possible?”

Rodin bowed respectfully, but remained mute.

“If you think we have omitted some precaution,” cried Father d’Aigrigny, with a sort of uneasy impatience, “speak out!  We have still time.  Once more, do you think it is possible to do more than I have done?  All the other descendants being removed, when Gabriel appears to-morrow in the Rue Saint-Francois, will he not be the only representative of this family, and consequently the rightful possessor of this immense fortune?  Now, according to his act of renunciation, and the provisions of our statutes, it is not to him, but to the Order, that these possessions must fall.  Could I have acted better, or in any other manner?  Speak frankly!”

“I cannot permit myself to offer an opinion on this subject,” replied Rodin, humbly, and again bowing; “the success of the measures taken must answer your reverence.”

Father d’Aigrigny shrugged his shoulders, and reproached himself for having asked advice of this writing-machine, that served him for a secretary, and to whom he only ascribed three qualities—­memory, discretion, and exactness.